


Broken By Fire

by MelindaByrd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9872246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelindaByrd/pseuds/MelindaByrd
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are brothers with a very unusual job. They kill monsters, things that go bump in the night that your parents told you weren't real.Their lastest case, however, leads them to someone who is being hunted.  Every day, for months.  By different monsters.  They have to figure out why before her luck finally runs out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Constructive criticism is very appreciated.

Dean rounded the corner of the dilapidated barn in the darkness, stepping around dry weeds surrounding it to avoid making noise.  He headed for the back while Sam went towards the front.  They’d been hunting this group for a while now.  They finally got a break and tailed one of its members back here. 

A scream came from inside and he quickened his pace.  “Let me go!” a female voice yelled followed by a blow landing.  There was no time to waste.  Whoever they had in there might not last long if they didn’t hurry. 

He slipped inside the dusty, old barn silently.  He expected to see their victim restrained and beaten.  Instead he saw a woman with long brown hair holding off three of them with a 2x4, swinging it in wide circles if they got close.  About half a dozen others stood on a semi circle cheering, like they were watching a schoolyard fight. 

While everyone’s attention was on the spectacle, Sam and Dean moved thru the shadows to opposite sides of the circle of onlookers. 

One of them lunged at her with a deep growl.  She brought up the end of the 2x4, striking him under the jaw and pushed upwards.  He fell backwards with a loud thud on the dirt floor, sending up a small cloud of dust. 

Dean easily got behind the spectator at the end of the circle, who groaned loudly at the woman’s blow to his comrade.  Then laughed as he hit the floor.  Dean silenced him with a swing of his machete, sending his head flying outside the circle.  

Sensing something wrong at the sudden silence, the woman next to him looked over as Dean swung again.  This time the newly separated head flew into the center of the circle, surprising the attackers as it rolled to stare up at them blankly. 

While Dean dealt with his side of the group, Sam snuck around opposite him and took out a spectator on his side.  At the pause in attack, the woman inside the circle swung the 2x4 like a bat, striking one attacker on the side of the head with a loud crack.  The sound infuriated the others.  They rushed her with an angry roar. 

Dean missed his next swing as the man jumped out of reach of his machete.  They circled each other a moment, sizing each other up.  Sam was wrestling two more of them and saw the woman out of the corner of his eye swing her 2x4.  Three of them were on her in seconds.  

One swatted the makeshift bat from her hand and knocked her to the ground.   Straddling her midsection, he pinned her arms above her head.  Grabbing a handful of hair, he jerked her head to one side, exposing the side of her neck.  Razor sharp teeth seemed to grow from his mouth as she watched, bucking and kicking uselessly to throw him off. Helplessly she watched as he tore violently into her neck.   

At the smell of blood, the other two were on her, grabbing her arms and tearing at her wrists.  She screamed, half pain, half anger as she struggled violently.  Sickeningly, she realized they were drinking the blood that now flowed from her wounds.  Kicking and pulling against her attackers, the room started to spin as she felt the life drain from her.  She continued to struggle but felt her muscles weaken, her strength fading, her breathing slow. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted seeing her go down.  He shoved off the vampire with a kick to the gut and swung his machete at the second that rushed him, decapitating him.  They were making progress at taking out the nest, but their victim didn't have much time.  They had her pinned and were draining her fast. 

Dean spared a quick look to the woman being attacked.  Suddenly the vampire circling him bolted for the group feeding on the her.  “What the hell!?” Dean said chasing him.  The creature grabbed her thigh and, sprouting his own mouthful of fierce teeth, bit deeply.  She gasped weakly, her muscles twitching in pain.  Darkness was edging in on her vision quickly.  

Dean pulled the monster off, throwing him into a support beam.  With a practiced swing, his head was separated.  One by one Sam and Dean pulled them off, decapitating each in turn.  They didn't even seem interested that their nest-mates were being killed, that they were undoubtedly next.  Only on feeding on her.  

Dean grabbed a nearby rag and ripped it in half, tossing one piece to Sam.  “Tie her wrist,” he said as he worked on wrapping up the other.  He took off his flannel shirt and used it slow the bleeding from her neck.  “I got you,” he said lifting her.  She took a sharp breath, fighting the darkness attempting to swallow her.  

Sam opened the back door to the Impala and climbed in.  He took the woman carefully as Dean passed her to him and closed the door.  Dean quickly opened the drivers door and tore out of the driveway.  

“Stay with me,” Sam said as Dean sped down the highway.  “Stay awake.  We're gonna get you to a hospital.” 

Her face contorted in fear.  “No,” she said weakly. 

Sam looked at her, stunned.  “What?” 

“No hospital,” she said, her eyes fluttered, fighting to focus.  “People get hurt.  They always...” she took a weak breath.  “Always find me.” 

“Who?” Dean asked, stealing a glace at her from the front seat.  “Who always finds you?” 

“Monsters,” she breathed. 

“We killed them all.  You're safe now,” Sam said reassuringly, holding the shirt on her still bleeding neck. 

“No,” she answered softly.  “Always more.”  She took a ragged breath as her eyes closed. 

“Hey.  Hey!  Stay with me!” Sam yelled.  He shook her gently but she didn't respond. 

“Dean!” he said sharply. 

“Almost there!” he answered, turning on squealing tires to the ER entrance. 

“Doctor!” Dean yelled as he ran with her through the emergency room doors. 

“She's lost a lot of blood,” he told them as they ran to help. 

“In here,”  said a dark-haired doctor pulling aside a curtain to an exam room.  Dean placed her quickly on the bed and backed up as the doctor and nurses ran in.  

Dean and Sam stood just outside the exam room in blood covered shirts as they worked on her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean Winchester are brothers with a very unusual job. They kill monsters, things that go bump in the night that your parents told you weren't real. 
> 
> Their lastest case, however, leads them to someone who is being hunted. Every day, for months. By different monsters. They have to figure out why before her luck finally runs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Sam and Dean sat in the large waiting room outside the ER. 

“What do you think she meant by ‘always more’?” Sam asked his brother quietly.  
Dean frowned but didn’t answer. 

The doctor came into the waiting room.  Seeing him, they stood quickly.  “How is she, doctor?” Sam asked. 

He looked at them seriously. “She's not stable yet.”  He flipped thru the intake paperwork they completed earlier.  “You said she's your cousin?”  

“Yeah,” Dean explained. “We haven't seen her in a while.” 

“So you know about the scars?” he asked looking at them intently. 

Sam and Dean exchanged confused glances.  “What scars?” Sam asked. 

He gestured for them to follow him, leading them to room full of monitors and equipment.  

He approached the bed.  She looked small and pale hooked up to bags of IV fluids and oxygen in the large hospital bed.  

He carefully turned her on her side and opened her gown to show her back. 

Sam caught his breath. 

Her back was patched in angry looking scars, some still in the process of healing.  Some looked like she’d been clawed by animal, others looked like knife and gun wounds. 

“None of these are more than 6 or 7 months old.  And most weren't treated properly.  I've started her on antibiotics as a precaution.  She also seriously malnourished.”  The doctor closed her gown and gently laid her back. 

“Wherever she was, whoever she was with before you met up with her...”  The doctor looked at them darkly.  “Do not let her go back.”  

“Will she be alright?” Sam asked with concern. 

The doctor looked down at his patient, “She's fighting.”  He looked back at them.  “We'll know more soon.” 

Sam nodded solemnly.  “Thank you, doctor.” 

He left the room, softly closing the door, leaving them alone with her. 

“6 or 7 months?!” Sam said quietly.  “That’s at least a decades worth of scars for a hunter.” 

“'Always more' she said.  One of those looked like werewolf claws,” Dean added. 

“This doesn't make sense.  Werewolves and vampires don't use guns and knives.  Why would different types of monsters be after her?” Sam said, confused. 

“Whoever or whatever it is, they want her gone,” Dean said somberly.  “And they’re persistent.” 

“No wonder she didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Sam looked at her.  “She’s being hunted and is surrounded by people, completely helpless until she recovers.” 

“Not while we’re here,” Dean answered. 

“I’ll cover her.  You and Cas try to figure out what we’re dealing with. Start with who she is and what happened 7 months ago.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean Winchester are brothers with a very unusual job. They kill monsters, things that go bump in the night that your parents told you weren't real. 
> 
> Their lastest case, however, leads them to someone who is being hunted. Every day, for months. By different monsters. They have to figure out why before her luck finally runs out.

Dean slept in a chair near the foot of her bed. He could sleep just about anywhere. A nurse opened the door quietly and looked in at him.

His chin rested on his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, arms over his chest. The nurse walked to the bed, watching her patient a moment. 

She stole another glance over her shoulder. Dean breathed deeply, evenly. In and out.

The nurse smiled. Her eyes turning an unnatural black that covered the whole surface of her eyes, as her smile twisted into a sneer. 

She turned back to her motionless prey and silently slipped a dagger from the pocket of her scrubs.

She raised the blade over her head, smiling darkly at her helpless patient. 

"Drop it," Dean said, cocking his gun behind her. She paused and glanced behind her, almost casually. 

He pressed the muzzle of the gun to the back of her head. "Now."

She dropped the knife with a clatter on the floor, leaving her hands in the air. She turned slowly to face him. 

"Why?" he demanded from the demon. "Why her?"

"Why not?" she asked. She smiled up at him.

"WHY!" he demanded.

She sighed and put her hands down slowly. "Hunters. All you know how to do is kill. You never see anything."

She looked back at the bed, "She's just a bonus. I was here on other business when I felt her." 

She smiled back up a Dean. "Looks like someone made a pass at her before me."

"What do you mean 'felt her'?" he asked, keeping his gun trained on her.

She sighed again and leaned on the bed. "Power. She probably doesn't even know. But you can feel it."

Dean looked at her skeptically. "What kind of power?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't know," she said sounding like an exasperated teenager talking to a dull parent. 

"But it's not one of ours. Makes her a tasty little target," she looked back at the bed like a hungry man at a meal.

"So," she said, turning back to Dean. "Are you gonna shoot an unarmed nurse tending to her patient?" She grinned at him.

Dean smiled back at her darkly. "Of course not," he said keeping his gun on her. 

He started reciting the exorcism in Latin.

The nurse screamed and grabbed her head in pain. She looked at him furiously and charged. They both hit the floor with a loud thud. Dean stopped reciting as the wind was knocked out of him. 

Another voice picked up where he left off. She howled in pain. Dean looked up and saw Sam in the doorway. He finished as Dean got to his feet.

The demon tilted her head upwards and screamed as black smoke poured from her mouth and snaked out the window. The nurse, now free of the demon, sat on her knees gasping for breath. Sam knelt beside her as Dean put his gun away.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked. She looked up at him, confused and shaken.

"What happened?" she asked as Security opened the door.

"You had some kind of fit," Dean told her.

Sam helped her to her feet and a Security guard escorted her from the room.

Another guard looked at them quizzically. "Everything alright?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah," Sam answered. "She may need a doctor though," he said gesturing to the nurse who just left.

The guard looked unconvinced and glanced between the two of them. Apparently deciding there was nothing he could do, he nodded and closed the door behind him as he left.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked, looking at the bed.

"Yeah," Dean said, retrieving the dagger from the floor. He put it inside his jacket. 

"Had an interesting conversation with black-eyes," he added.

"I found something interesting, too," Sam said.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam and Dean moved to a corner of the room.  More to keep from being overheard by hospital staff than to avoid disturbing her.  She was still out cold. 

“I ran her prints,” Sam started.  He produced a tan folder from under his coat and handed it to Dean.  “Her name is Amber Taylor.”  Sam continued while Dean looked thru the file.  “About 7 months ago she was visiting her sisters family when they were attacked.” 

“Attacked by what?” Dean asked stopping at a crime scene photo.  It showed a woman with a striking resemblance to Amber.  She was on a floor, covered in blood with a gaping hole ripped open in her chest. 

“Werewolves?” 

“Yup.  And 40 miles away, at the exact same time,” he handed Dean another folder.  “Her brothers family.  Their house exploded.  Cause of the explosion is still under investigation.” 

“How did she survive the werewolves?” Dean asked looking thru the second file. 

“Her sister had a battle axe on the wall.  A gift from her husband.  Not a cheap knockoff either.  She fought her way out of the house with it by the time police arrived.” Sam said. 

Dean glanced at the tiny figure in the bed, looking impressed.  “Not bad.” 

“When they took her to the police station for questioning, she and the officers were attacked by a group of men with ‘black eyes’.”    

Dean looked up at him. “Demons.” 

Sam nodded.  “She managed to get to a police car outside and escape.  She’s been wanted for questioning ever since.” 

“Seven months of running,” Sam said taking the folders back from Dean. 

“The demon that attacked her said it felt her,” Dean said.  “That she has some kind of power.” 

Sam frowned, considering, “What kind of power?” 

“Only said it wasn’t ‘one of theirs’ and it made her a ‘tasty target’,” Dean answered dourly. 

“That does not sound good,” Sam said darkly. 

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed rubbing his face tiredly.  “Did Cas have anything?” 

“Didn’t answer his phone.  I was going to try again in a minute.” 

“We may need to get her somewhere safer if this gets worse.”  Dean looked at her still form on the bed.  She hadn’t stirred at all thru the attack or their conversation. 

“Can she even be moved?” Sam asked looking at the IVs and bank of monitors she was hooked up to. 

“We may not have a choice,” Dean answered darkly.  “Sounds like it’s not a matter of if, but when she gets attacked again.” 

Sam stood in the hallway talking to the doctor while Dean continued guard duty.  He sat on the edge the bed, watching her.  

She was still pale but looked better.  He had watched the new nurse change her bandages earlier.  She winced when the old ones were removed.  First movement he'd seen from her since he carried her in the ER doors.  

She looked tiny and frail in the hospital gown.  Tubes and wires running from her to IVs and monitors didn't help.  Her dark hair the only thing that stood out against her pale skin and the white sheets.  

Dean wondered how she'd survived so long.  She'd been hunted by who knows how many monsters for months.  If she had any power like the demon said, he hadn't seen it.  Not while she was fighting the vampires that attacked in the barn, at least.  Spirit, yes.  Supernatural power, no. 

Sam came back into the room.  Dean stood up from the bed.  “Any luck?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah.  I managed to convince the doc to set us up with what she needs in case we have to leave in a hurry,” he answered.  He looked over at Amber.  “Any change?” 

“A little.  Did the doc say if she could be moved?” Dean asked following Sam's gaze. 

“He strongly advises against it,” he said darkly.  “She's still really weak.” 

“Damn,” Dean said quietly.  “I'd rather not wait for the next attack in a crowded hospital.  The bunker would be a hell of a lot safer.” 

“Agreed.  But it's a long ride in her condition,” Sam said. 

There was a quiet moan across the room.  Sam and Dean walked to the bed, watching her.  Amber opened her eyes, looking confused. 

“Hey,” Sam said from the foot of the bed.  She slowly focused on him. 

“Hey,” she said answered weakly.  

“Where?” 

“The hospital,” Dean answered from beside Sam. 

“No,” she said urgently, trying to sit up. 

“Easy,” Sam said walking to her, gently pushing her back.  “Take it easy.” 

“Can’t be here,” she said hoarsely, protesting as Sam pushed her back into the pillow. 

“Doc says you’re too weak,” Sam explained. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she said insistently, trying to sit up again. 

Sam sighed and helped her sit up carefully.   
“People will die if I stay,” she said matter-of-factly.  She paused to catch her breath from the effort. 

“We can help,” Dean said from the foot of the bed, “if you let us.” 

She looked up at him sadly.  “People who help me die,” she said quietly, her eyes darkening.  “All of them.” 

“We’re not amateurs,” Dean answered confidently. 

“And we don’t die easily,” Sam added. 

She looked between them, then looked down.  Her brow furrowed tiredly, considering.  She sighed weakly and looked back up at them grimly. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

The doctor handed Sam a bag of medication.  “Instructions for everything are inside.”    
He looked at Amber in the wheelchair.  “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” he asked. 

“No, thank you,” she smiled weakly. 

He sighed, “Alright.  Call me if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” Sam said and pushed the wheelchair down the sterile hallway followed by Dean. 

“Let’s go,” Dean said tensely. 

As they neared the end of the hall two men rounded the corner quickly. 

Dean tensed as the men stopped and grinned at them, eyes turning black.  Amber caught her breath. 

“Plan B,” he said and got between them and Amber, pulling out his gun.  

Sam picked her up from the wheelchair quickly and ran back the way they came. 

Dean pushed the now empty wheelchair at the men and ran after them. 

The men lunged down the hall, throwing the wheelchair to one side.    
Sam pulled open the stairwell door and bolted down the steps three at a time.  

Amber groaned and grit her teeth against the jolting motion.  The darkness threatened to close in on her again. 

Dean, just a few steps behind, closed the stairwell doors and jammed the metal pipe he had stashed there between the door handles. 

The door rattled angrily as the demons tried to push their way thru. 

Sam open the stairwell exit with his shoulder into the sunlit parking lot and ran for the Impala parked nearby.  

Dean ran past him and opened the back door.  They screeched out of the lot as the demons made it out the stairwell. 

“Amber?” Sam asked.  She made a weak noise, her eyelids fluttered briefly then closed. 

“She alright?” Dean asked pulling them onto the highway quickly. 

Sam checked her pulse.  “I think so,” he answered.  He took the blanket he’d grabbed from the hospital and wrapped her up.  He settled her across the seat with her head on his leg.  He leaned back and sighed. 

“Well, it finally happened,” Dean said grimly. 

Sam frowned, “What?” 

“We found a monster magnet,” he said staring out the windshield darkly. 

Sam looked down at Amber.  “Yeah,” he said quietly. 

Sam walked down the stairs into the bunker, followed by Dean carrying Amber.  Sam stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Cas?” he said, then continued into the library. 

Dean looked into the library, “What the hell, Cas?  We’ve been calling you.” 

Cas looked up from the long table.  “I’ve been out of cell phone range.”  He saw Dean was carrying someone and stood up quickly.  

“What happened?” he asked walking to Dean. 

“She was attacked,” Sam said as Cas touched her head gently. 

“She has many injuries,” he said frowning. 

“Bedroom,” Dean said sharply and walked quickly down the hall.  He laid her carefully on the bed and moved back to let Cas in.  Sam walked in behind them. 

Cas sat in the chair by the bed and leaned over her.  He placed his hands over her midsection as they began to glow.  

He frowned in concentration.  “She’s very weak.  This will take time.”


	5. Chapter 5

Amber didn’t remember much after the stairwell.  Even that was a blur of pain and fear.  She remembered flashes of headlights, glimpses of bookshelves, then a bright warm, light and finally deep sleep. 

She opened her eyes slowly and blinked in the darkness.  She looked around slowly, trying to focus.  

Panic gripped her for a moment as she saw weapons in the shadows.  She relaxed a little as she realized they were not held by some dangerous things in the dark but hanging on a wall. 

She sat up and was surprised when nothing hurt.  That hadn’t happened in, well, in forever it seemed.  As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a bedroom.  

She frowned, trying to remember how she got there.  Her frown deepened as she remembered the barn and the attack.  

She looked at her wrists, confused.  They should be hurting, scarred.  She remembered the men in the hospital room.  The bunker they mentioned.  That must be where she was.  

She sighed deeply.  She didn’t want to drag anyone else into the nightmare her life had become.  At the time she’d had no choice.  They were willing to risk themselves.   The innocent people in the hospital that would be hurt when the next attack came, she wouldn’t risk. 

But she could spare her new friends now if she could get out of here.  She looked around and found her shoes and jacket.  

Putting them on quietly, she scanned the room again.  She grabbed a dagger from the wall and a handgun from the dresser.  She checked that it was loaded and grabbed an ammo box she found in the drawer, stuffing it in her coat. 

Opening the door quietly, she looked up and down the hall.  Slipping out and shutting the door silently, she made her way towards what she hoped was an exit. 

She rounded a corner cautiously and the room opened up into a wide library.  

‘Damn’, she thought as she saw lots of corners and angles where people could hide.  She quietly made her way along one wall.  Spotting the staircase leading up, she headed towards it quickly. 

“Going somewhere?” a voice said behind her.  She spun towards the voice, pulling the dagger. 

Dean stood behind her.  Seeing the dagger he raised his hands a little.  “Easy,” he said casually. 

She lowered the dagger and sighed.  ‘So much for that’, she thought. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked watching her carefully. 

“Better,” she said cooly, putting the dagger in her jacket.  He lowered his hands slowly. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked again calmly. 

“Yeah,” she answered honestly.  

“Somewhere where there’s no people I can put in danger.” 

“We told you this bunkers warded against monsters,” Dean answered.  

She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head.  She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head sharply, reaching for the dagger again. 

“You’ve been here two days and not a single attack,” Sam said bringing a small stack of books to the table.  

She removed her hand from the hilt of the dagger.  She really hated this room. 

“Wait, two days?” she frowned in disbelief.  It was never that long between attacks, never. 

“And if I go outside?” she asked, looking at Sam. 

“Monsters R Us,” Dean answered, still watching her, waiting to see if she’d bolt. 

She sighed again, considering.  This went against every instinct that had kept her alive.  After a minute she took a deep breath and looked up at them. 

“I guess I’m staying,” she said in a surprised voice. 

Dean nodded, “Good.”  He held out his hand.  “Can I have my dagger back?” 

She smirked at him and produced the dagger from her jacket. 

“Can’t blame a person for wanting to be safe,” she said as she handed it over. 

Dean shook his head.  “Of course not,” he said putting the dagger in his pocket. 

She started to sit down at the large table where Sam sat with his books. 

“Ah,” Dean said, stopping her.  She looked up at him.  “And my gun.” 

She sighed and pulled the handgun from the small of her back.  She held it a moment.  

“What if you’re wrong and something gets in?” 

“Then you’ll have back up,” he said taking the gun.  He checked it quickly then tucked it in the back of his belt.  

She looked at him skeptically. 

Sam frowned at his brother.  He got up and walked to a bookshelf, picking up a sheathed knife.  He walked back to Amber.  

“Here,” he said handing it to her.  “Just in case.” 

“Thank you,” she quietly said, putting it in her jacket. 

Dean shrugged and sat at the table next to Sam’s books.  Sam sat back down next to him. 

She sat across from them looking uncomfortable as they browsed thru the books. 

“So,” she said finally.  “What happened with this?”  She turned her wrists face up on the table. 

They looked at her questioningly.  “No scars?” she said raising her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” Dean said, “about that…” he paused awkwardly. 

“We have a friend,” Sam said.  “He was able to heal you.” 

She narrowed her eyes skeptically at them.   
“How?” she asked, concerned. 

“He’s an angel.” Sam said plainly. 

“An…… angel?” she repeated, sounding unconvinced. 

“Yeah,” Dean answered.  “You know, wings and all.” 

“An angel,” she said again and shook her head.  “Okay then.”  She guessed it wasn’t as weird as anything else she’d been thru. 

“So what’s the plan?”  Sam and Dean looked up at her again.  “Unless you want a permanent guest?” 

“Well, we’re gonna try to figure out why they’re after you and take it from there,”  Sam said from his book. 

“Any ideas?” Dean asked, looking at her questioningly. 

“I’ve been trying to figure that out from day one,” she said.  “I honestly have no idea.” 

“Was there anything different or unusual before the first attack?” Sam asked. 

“Not really.  Had a few migraines, like usual.  Work sucked, like usual.  Family was their normal crazy selves,” she shrugged.  “Boring.” 

“How long have you had migraines?” Sam asked. 

“Years,” she answered. 

“Were they any worse right before?” Dean asked. 

She thought for a moment.  “Yeah.  But they do that sometimes.” 

“How about deja vu? Feeling like you know what’s gonna happen,” Sam asked. 

She shrugged again.  “Who doesn’t get that.  Things have been pretty predictable,” she said darkly. 

There was a loud grumbling noise.  Amber blushed as they both looked at her. 

“Sorry,” she said putting a hand on her stomach. 

“Actually a food run sounds good,” Sam said closing his book.  He grabbed his coat and headed for the stairs.  “I’ll be back soon.” 

Amber watched him leave.  

Dean watched her carefully.  She took everything in like a hunter.  He supposed she was one after the last 7 months.  She didn’t have any training but few hunters do at first.  More of a crash course.  She’d definitely had that. 

She caught him watching her and returned his stare. 

She sighed tiredly.  She didn’t like being the center of attention, even before the monsters invaded her life. 

She got up and wandered the library, browsing the books.  “Quite a collection.” 

“It comes in handy,” he said going back to his book. 

“What exactly are you guys?” she asked holding up a book on ancient Mediterranean monsters. 

“We’re hunters,” he answered.  “We take out the bad things that hurt people.” 

She was quiet a moment, thinking about that.  “Do you really think you can help?” she asked. 

Dean looked up at her from his book again.  Her eyes were sad.  He was surprised.  She’d been guarded.  It was like the thought of real help had cracked her armor.  He stood up and walked to her. 

“Yes,” he said.  “We can.” 

She looked down briefly.  She looked back up, fear creeping into her eyes.  “Do you think it possible … I could go home?” she asked. 

“No,” he said quietly. 

Pain raced across her face before she could put her walls back up.  She looked away, blinking furiously to fight back tears. 

“Hey,” Dean said quietly, touching her shoulder. 

She jumped slightly at his touch, but didn’t pull away.  “You’re not in this alone.  And you’re safe here, I promise.” 

Tears slid down her cheeks silently.  He wrapped his arms around her gently.   
He felt her shake as she cried silently.  She took a shaky breath, fighting to control herself. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Dean whispered as she lost the fight. 

Cas watched Dean and Amber silently from the hallway.  He knew what she’d been thru.  He felt the wounds, saw her memories as he healed her.  Monsters, demons, unnamed things in the dark.  Some attacked, some hunted her.  Some had tortured.  All took twisted delight in her suffering.  For months. 

And now she knew she could never go home.  Watching her sob in Deans arms felt like a knife being twisted in his chest.  He couldn’t heal this. 

He shifted uncomfortably and Dean looked over at him sadly, still holding Amber as she shook.  Her sobs gradually slowed until she was breathing deeply. 

“Lets get you to bed,” Dean said gently and lead her down the hall past Cas.  Amber didn’t see him.  Her eyes were glazed over and she looked exhausted. 

She let Dean put her to bed.  She fell asleep almost immediately. 

Dean walked back into the library looking worn out. 

“How is she?” Cas asked from his seat at the long wooden table. 

Dean sighed and sat next to Cas.  “She’s asleep.” 

Cas nodded sadly.  “I’m sure she needs the rest.”   
“Yeah,” Dean said quietly.  After a few moments he got up and made himself a drink. 

“Any luck finding more info?” Dean asked from the bar. 

“No, nothing,” Cas said, sounding disappointed.  “I need more to go on.” 

“Well she’s safe for the moment,” Dean drank from his glass.  “That’s something, at least.” 

They sat in silence for a long while. 

 

Sam walked down the stairs juggling three bags of food and a drinks holders.  He saw Cas and Dean at the table and frowned. 

“Where’s Amber?” he asked placing the food and drinks on the end of the table. 

“Sleeping,” Cas said quietly. 

“Everything okay?” he asked. 

“She had some questions,” Dean answered, finishing his glass. 

“And?” Sam asked concerned. 

“I don’t think she was ready for the answers,” Cas answered. 

Sam sighed and sat down across from them.  “You can’t be ready for some things,” he said quietly.  They’d had their share of breaking bad news.  It never got easier. 

“Now that she’s safe, she’s starting to processing everything that’s happened,” Cas said.  

“It’s a lot to take in,” he added darkly.   
Sam thought a moment, “Do we even know what’s happened to her?” 

Cas looked at him, frowning.  “She’s been hunted by monsters and demons.” 

“Well, yeah but… Where?  When?”  They looked at him.  “If we can find information on the attacks, maybe we can find a pattern.” 

“Where would we start?  5’4” female, long auburn hair, being attacked isn’t very specific,” Cas said. 

“She’s wanted for questioning about the attack at her sisters.  Maybe the police have something,” Dean suggested.


	6. Chapter 6

She woke up with a terrible headache.  She sat up slowly, holding her head.  She looked around, trying to remember where she was.  She should have eaten.  It’s been too long.  She spotted her coat on a chair.  She remembered the medicine in the inside pocket. 

She got out of the bed carefully.  The room was trying to spin on her.  Trying to steady herself she reached out for the nightstand. 

Her hand brushed a glass, knocking it to the floor, shattering.  The sound sent a sharp stab of pain thru the base of her skull.  

She grabbed for the edge of the nightstand, missing as the room spun wildly.  She landed on her knees hard.  Fresh pain shot thru her.  She shut her eyes against the motion but it didn’t help.  Nausea knotted her stomach. 

“Hey,” she heard a muffled voice.  It sounded far away.  “Hey, you okay?” 

“Migraine,” she told the disembodied voice. 

She felt herself being picked up.  A sharp pain stabbed thru her leg. 

She heard random words, fragments of conversation.  “glass…  towel…  blood…” 

Something was being pressed to her lips.  “It’ll help,” the distant voice said. 

She tried to swallow but immediately vomited.  She started shaking from the effort of emptying her stomach.  She felt very cold. 

Darkness threatened again, closing in quickly.  Something was wrapped around her.  She tried to speak but only managed a weak moan.  She started shivering hard, trying to warm herself, her breathing becoming ragged. 

She felt something warm pressed against her.  She rested her head against the warmth and the shivering slowly eased. 

She reached out weakly and felt someone take her hands, rubbing them gently.   
Warmth slowly fought back the chill.   She finally stopped shivering as the warmth returned.  The darkness closed in as exhaustion claimed her.  Her breathing becoming deep, even. 

 

“Cas?  Where the hell are you?!  Call us, NOW,” Dean barked into the phone and hung up.  Must be the 10th message he’d left in 3 hours. 

Sam walked into the library.  “Anything?” 

Dean shook his head angrily.  Sam sighed, leaning on one of the chairs at the table.  

“How is she?” Dean asked. 

“Sleeping again, thank God,” he said sounding exhausted. 

For hours Amber alternated between shaking badly as she became ice cold and sleeping once she was warm again.  She threw up any medicine they tried to give her.  They couldn’t risk taking her to the hospital.  She’d be attacked before they got there. 

She needed Cas to heal her.  But he was out looking for information and not answering his calls. 

Sam pulled out the chair and sat down.  Dean tossed his phone on the table.  

“Keep trying.  I’m gonna watch her,” Dean said walking down the tiled hall to the bedroom. 

He opened the door quietly, then shut it behind him. 

He sat on the edge of the bed where Amber lay wrapped in layers of blankets.  She was sleeping for now. 

Dean sighed.  She was very pale and still.  He removed enough of the blankets to pull out her hand.  It was already getting cool again.  He massaged her hand gently.   
She took a ragged breath.  He tensed, watching her closely.  Her eyes fluttered open. 

“Hey,” Dean said still holding her hand.   
She turned towards him and slowly focused. 

“Hey,” she said back softly. 

“How you feeling?” he asked putting her hand down. 

“Terrible,” she said, slurring.  She gestured to her coat.  “Pocket.  Pills.” 

He retrieved the bottle from her coat and opened it, shaking out some pills.  She took two from his hand.  

Putting them in her mouth, she reached for the glass on the nightstand.  Dean handed it to her.  She drank slowly and handed the glass back. 

“Thank you,” she said leaning back on the bed. 

“What was that?” Dean asked. 

“Migraine.  Bad one,” she answered, still slurring her words a little. 

“You gonna be okay?” he asked picking up her hand, massaging it again. 

“Eventually,” she said slowly. 

“Thank you,” she smiled weakly at him. 

She fell asleep as the medicine took hold.  Dean continued to rub her hand, watching her sleep, just in case. 

 

Dean came into the library with two plates.  He put one on the table in front of Sam, then sat across from him.  Sam looked at the hamburger gratefully. 

“Thanks,” he said, picking it up.  “How is she?” he asked taking a big bite. 

Dean nodded as he swallowed a bite.  “She was able to take some pills.  She looks better.” 

Sam looked relieved.  “That’s great.” 

“I swear, when Cas gets back I’m ripping him a new one,” Dean said taking another bite. 

“He didn’t know she was gonna get this sick.” 

“But he didn’t finish healing her either.  He shouldn’t have left yet,” Dean said tearing off another bite. 

“Did you find anything in the police records,” Dean asked after they’d finished eating. 

“Yes and no,” Sam answered pulling up his laptop. 

Dean walked around the table to look over his shoulder. 

“I found a series of attacks that could be her while she was running,” he pointed to a line on a map. 

“But it only goes for two weeks.  Then it ends with nothing in any direction for weeks.” 

“That doesn’t fit.  She was getting attacked several times a day,” Dean frowned at the screen. 

“There’s a reason for that,” a familiar voice said behind them. 

They turned around sharply.  Cas stood behind them. 

“Cas, where in the hell…” Dean started angrily. 

“Hell,” he said simply, interrupting him.   
They both blinked at him and exchanged confused glances. 

“What?” Dean said sharply. 

“I was in Hell,” Cas said plainly. 

“Why?” asked Sam. 

“Because I found the same trail you did.  She disappeared because she was kidnapped by demons.” 

Deans anger disappeared, replaced by a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“And taken to Hell?” Sam asked. 

“No, she was taken to another location and tortured,” Cas said somberly.  “I saw it in her memories,” he added. 

“Wait, you saw her memories?” Sam said incredulously. 

“Yes, as I was healing her I saw memories of what happened to her.” 

“And you didn’t think to mention this?” Dean asked, angry again. 

“I wanted to be sure of what I saw first,” he answered Dean darkly. 

“But why?” Sam said in confusion. 

Cas looked at them and walked down the hall.  Sam looked at Dean in confusion.  Dean looked angrily at Cas’ back. 

“Cas?!” Dean said sharply as they followed him. 

Cas opened the bedroom door and walked to the bed quietly.  

Amber was still sleeping from the medication.  Cas pulled back the layers of blankets and gently lifted her shirt to reveal her stomach.  

Dean caught his breath. 

Her stomach was covered in scars in an intricate pattern.  

“Oh my God,” Sam said quietly. 

They might have looked beautiful if they weren’t carved painfully deep into her skin. 

“Demons did this?” Sam asked, feeling a little sick to his stomach. 

“Not just any demon,” Cas said looking at Dean. 

“Alastair,” Dean said darkly. 

Sam looked at his brother in concern.  “But he’s dead,” Sam said. 

“One of his students did this,” Cas said lowering her shirt and pulling the blankets back over her. 

“They tortured her for weeks.  The only question they asked was ‘What are you?’” 

Cas looked at her sleeping soundly, “She doesn’t know.” 

“Dean?” Sam said quietly. 

“They wouldn’t take an interest if it wasn’t something big,” Dean said darkly. 

“What did you find out?” Sam asked quietly. 

Cas gestured them out of the room.  Sam closed the door quietly behind them. 

“My contacts think she’s a type of psychic,” Cas said. 

“What, like Pamela?” Sam asked, referring to a friend who’d helped on several cases and lost her life in the process. 

“No, it’s called an Allura.  Thought to be a myth, actually.” 

“Why a myth?” Sam asked. 

“They’re chosen to receive visions, specifically of what demons are doing.  To help stop them.” 

“Wait, ‘chosen’?  Like prophet chosen?” Dean asked, that sinking feeling getting worse. 

“Yes,” Cas said.  “But no one has ever met one.  They’re very reclusive.  Possibly because their gift makes them hunted, they don’t live long.” 

“This just keeps getting worse,” Sam said quietly. 

“Did you find anything that can help us keep her safe?” Dean asked. 

“Not yet,” Cas answered.  “I came as soon as I got your messages.” 

“Okay,” Dean said.  “You,” he said pointing at Cas.  “Heal her.  Completely this time,” he pointed at the door. 

Cas nodded, “Of course.” 

“We’ll hit the books,” he said gesturing to him and Sam. 

Sam and Dean headed down the hall.

Cas looked at the door sadly.  He knew he would see more of her memories as he healed her.  It’s never happened before and he found it extremely uncomfortable.  The flood of her emotions: fear, pain, sadness, were overwhelming.  But he couldn’t let her suffer.  She was injured more than Sam and Dean knew.  He’d hoped she would be alright till he returned.  But he’d been gone longer than he planned. 

He took a breath and opened the door.


	7. Chapter 7

“Damn it,” Dean closed his book.  “I’m gonna go blind and nothing.” 

Sam looked up at Dean from his laptop and sighed.  Research was never Dean’s favorite part of hunting.  But he was even more short tempered than usual since Cas mentioned Alastair.  Dean’s relationship with the late torture-king of hell was a nasty memory.  Sam wondered if this was too much for Dean but didn’t dare say anything.  Not yet. 

“Why don’t you take a break?  Check on Amber,” Sam suggested.  “I’ll keep digging.” 

“Good idea,” Dean said, getting up from the chair and heading for the bedroom. 

 

Dean opened the door quietly and walked inside the dimly lit room.  Cas sat on a chair next to the bed, watching Amber sleep. 

“Hey,” Dean said softly.  “All done?” he asked. 

Cas turned to Dean and nodded silently, then turned back to watch Amber. 

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her carefully. 

”Dean,” Cas said quietly.  “She had so many injuries.  Endured so much for so long,” he said painfully. 

“Now she doesn’t have to,” he reassured Cas. 

“But that kind of pain, Dean.”  He paused.  “It changes a person,” he said sadly. 

Dean nodded darkly.  He knew that.  Very well.  He thought a moment, looking at her. 

“We’ll just have to help her find her way back,” Dean suggested. 

Cas nodded slowly. “Maybe,” he said quietly. 

“I saw who she was before,” Cas said.  “She’s an empath, Dean.” 

“Empath?  You mean she reads emotions?” Dean asked looking at him. 

“She absorbs them,” Cas corrected, looking back at him.  “She feels what others feel as if it were her own.” 

Dean looked at her a little wide-eyed.  ‘Oh my God’, was all he could think. 

“She wanted nothing more than to help people, Dean.  Be with her family.  Live a normal life.” 

Cas looked at her sadly.  “Her family murdered.  Demons tortured her.  Monsters hunted her.  For close to a year.”    

“And the entire time she felt the twisted joy they took in her pain,” he said darkly. 

“How can someone survive that?” Cas fought back tears.  He’d never felt so much at one time.  Her empathy intensified everything she felt.  And he felt it with her as he healed her. 

Dean touched his shoulder.  Cas looked up at Dean with red rimmed eyes.  “With help,” he said. 

“Guys,” they heard quietly from the door. 

Sam had cracked the door and poked his head in.  “I’ve got something.”


	8. Chapter 8

They followed Sam to the library.  He sat down at the laptop and pulled up the site. 

“It’s an obscure Irish myth.  I found it in a university syllabus,” Sam explained. 

“It doesn’t say much,” Cas said looking at the class outline on the screen. 

“The course professor just finished an archaeological dig in Ireland.  Brought back all kinds of stuff, including…” he pulled up another page. 

It was an image of a jeweled pendant with intricate symbols carved on it. 

“What is it?” Dean asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“The pendant of Allura,” Sam said. 

Cas and Dean exchanged glances.  Dean leaned in for a closer look. 

“We need that pendant.  These symbols are very ancient.  Some are for protection,” Cas said pointing at the image. 

“And the professor may have more information about what’s going on,” Dean said. 

“There’s more.  The dig notes said the pendant was found in a tomb.  And it was found 7 months ago,” Sam added. 

“That could be what started all this,” Cas said thinking out loud. 

“We need to talk to this Professor Randolf before the demons find him,” Dean said scanning the image notes. 

“I can find and secure the pendant,” Cas suggested. 

Dean grabbed his coat and headed for the stairs followed by Cas. 

“Um, guys?” Sam said, stopping them.  They looked at him questioningly. 

Sam pointed down the hall.  “Amber’s out.  She can’t come with us.  She’ll be attacked again.  And we can’t leave her here alone,” he said. 

Dean sighed and nodded.  “Keep digging,” he said to Sam.  “Hack the school for more information.  Call us if you find anything.” 

 

Cas decided to ride with Dean.  It wasn’t a long drive to the Anthropology department of the small university.  Dean pulled the Impala into a visitors spot in front of the ivy covered brick building on the campus.  Students bustled back and forth on the sidewalk carrying books and backpacks. 

Dean and Cas walked between the students and thru the large wooden doors of the entrance.  Reading the directory, Cas set off for the Collections Dept while Dean went up the stairs to Professor Randolf’s office. 

Dean knocked on the office door and heard a cordial “Come in” from the other side.  He opened the door to an office packed with books and display items crammed into every available space.  The floor was littered with boxes filled with files or carefully packed items.  It looked almost like the professor was in the middle of moving. 

“Professor Randolf?” Dean asked a portly gentleman with salt and pepper hair behind the desk. 

The man looked up from a stack of papers on his desk. “Yes?” he answered, taking off his reading glasses. 

“Hi.  My name is Dean Andrews from the National Times,” Dean said offering his hand.   
The man stood and shook his hand with a smile. 

 

Cas walked into the Collections Dept office.  The reception desk sat empty.  It’s computer monitor dark, phone silent.  Two inner office doors were closed and dark.  They were either gone for the day or on break.  Cas looked thru the reception desk and found a directory.  It listed New Acquisitions in room 408, right next door. 

Cas found the New Acquisitions door locked.  With a thought he was on the other side of the door.  Dean would have used a lockpick but Cas was faster.  He scanned the rows of metal shelves that filled the room.  They were primarily filled with trays of stone tools, broken pottery, and bone.  All meticulously labeled with dates and identification numbers. 

There was a loud crash from the back of the room.  Cas flattened himself against the shelving unit closest to him and leaned to see the cause.  He saw a tray and it’s dusty contents fly into the back wall followed by another crash.  A man in the back was inspecting the trays and flinging them off the shelves.  Cas looked down and frowned.   Three motionless bodies lay on the floor in a pool of blood.  The staff hadn’t left for the day after all. 

 

“I’m doing an article on your recent dig in Ireland,” Dean told the professor as he took the offered chair cross from him at the large wooden desk. 

“That’s wonderful,” the professor beamed.  “Of course, we won’t have the hard data until our analysis is finished,” he added rifling thru papers on his desk.  He produced photos of the dig and artifacts, handing them to Dean.  Dean looked at them, feigning interest while scanning for the pendant.  Nothing yet. 

The professor gave him details about the dig location and the area history.  Dean suddenly felt like he was in class and wished he’d brought Sam.  The site was the tomb of a noblewoman.  Most of the items were found in the grave itself.  They were digging on the site based on a local myth. 

“What can you tell me about the myth?” Dean asked shuffling thru the images. 

“Supposedly she was a healer and psychic.  She would give advice on everything from medicine to crops to conflict resolution thru divine revelation,” he started.  “But we’ll know much more after we translate the book,” he said. 

Dean looked up in surprise.  “Book?” 

“Yes,” the professor said excitedly producing another photo and passing it to Dean. 

Dean stared at the image.  It was a very old looking leather bound book.  It had a medallion on the cover identical to the pendant. 

The professor leaned over the desk and pointed to the image.  “We’re trying to decipher the symbols on the cover.  They seem to be a recurring theme.”  He produced another photo, this of the pendant itself, and held it next to the one in Dean’s hand. 

“Any chance I could see these two?” Dean asked.  Seeing the professor frown slightly, he added, “To give a personal impression for the article.” 

“They are impressive,” he said after thinking a moment.  He walked across the room and removed a wrapped bundle carefully from a shelf. 

 

Cas edged closer to the back of the room, producing a long, triangular blade from the sleeve of his overcoat.  He came up behind the demon as it turned it’s back to inspect another shelf. 

A sudden crunch under Cas’ foot had him looking down.  He stepped on a piece of pottery scattered by the demon’s search.  He looked up just in time to dodge the knife slash toward his throat.  The demon stepped back, grabbing the shelf across from Cas and tipped it.  The shelf pitched forward raining trays down on him, knocking him backward into the wall.  It stopped short of pinning him, crashing into the wall just above his head.  Sliding from under the shelf, kicking trays aside, Cas got quickly to his feet.  But the demon was already gone. 

Cas looked down at the mess around him.  A glint in the pile of upended trays and broken debris caught his eye. 

 

The professor placed the wrapped bundle carefully on the desk.  He pulled back layers of cloth as Dean got up to stand next to him.  The book was clearly old and very large, covering nearly 1/4 of the desk.  A gold medallion inset on the cover was inscribed in two nested circles of symbols and set with tiny jewels. 

“The pendant is in our Collections room but the medallion here is an exact match,” the professor said pointing at the book’s cover. 

Dean leaned over to inspect it closely.  “Any idea what it means?” 

The professor shook his head, “Not yet.  We’re still working on identifying the language or writing system.”  He opened the cover carefully.  The pages were covered in strange writing and an occasional diagram of something obscure. 

“Same with the inside.  It’s a language I don’t know, or maybe a code.  Linguistics is working on it,” he added. 

Dean carefully turned the parchment page.  He couldn’t make heads or tails of it.  But he bet Sam might be able to.


End file.
